


The worst coffee in the universe (but the aftertaste is your lipstick).

by orphan_account



Series: Fullmetal Femslash February 2014 [7]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Femslash Challenge 2014, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All right, gimme the low-down on the new girl at the Starbucks.”</p>
<p>Ed blinks, lowering the physics textbook he’d been glowering at for the past several minutes—he’s noticed that one of the diagrams is technically incorrect and is considering the best plan of attack in fixing it—while Al taps his sketch pen on his chin. “You act like I go to Starbucks for anything other than stupid social gatherings I can’t get out of by sufficiently mouthing off.”</p>
<p>Standing in the doorway of the Elrics’ dorm,  Winry glares. Her hand travels to her hip, and Al slides slowly off of the bed to take cover on the floor. “First up, I wasn’t talking to you. I know Al’s been running off in there twenty-five-eight with that new girlfriend of his.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The worst coffee in the universe (but the aftertaste is your lipstick).

**Author's Note:**

> This is terrible. I shouldn't even post this except my best friend requested more Winry/Paninya and wow I'm so sorry Cordelia I'm so sorry.
> 
> Written for Femslash February. Prompt G2 on my bingo card, "Coffeeshop AU".
> 
> Unedited/unbeta'd/fuck me for posting this.

“All right, gimme the low-down on the new girl at the Starbucks.”

Ed blinks, lowering the physics textbook he’d been glowering at for the past several minutes—he’s noticed that one of the diagrams is technically incorrect and is considering the best plan of attack in fixing it—while Al taps his sketch pen on his chin. “You act like I go to Starbucks for anything other than stupid social gatherings I can’t get out of by sufficiently mouthing off.”

Standing in the doorway of the Elrics’ dorm, the engineering major glares. Her hand travels to her hip, and Al slides slowly off of the bed to take cover on the floor. “First up, I wasn’t talking to _you_. I know Al’s been running off in there twenty-five-eight with that new girlfriend of his.”

Ed’s gazes inches towards his younger brother’s form. His vocal cords grind together almost audibly. “ _Girlfriend_?”

“A young woman with whom I’m acquainted. She’s not my girlfriend.” Ed’s brow knits together. “The girl in medical school?” Al supplies, his tone hopeful. “May Chang. Chinese, hair up in braids? Know her?” Ed grunts. “She’s my friend, and I apologise that both of us enjoy the tea that Starbucks serves. I mean, is Winry _your_ girlfriend?”

Winry breaks down laughing. “In some alternate universe, maybe.”

Ed scratches out the incorrect diagram harshly enough for the page to tear. He curses and sets about flailing for tape. “So much for being pan.”

“Being pan doesn’t mean you want in _everyone’s_ pants, Mr Smarty Pants.” Winry pokes her tongue out. “You’re like my brother. If you wanna date a sibling go ask Al, since he _clearly_ doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Al raises his arms defensively. “Okay, okay, I’ll spill the beans. Which girl?”

“Um, tall, short hair, African-American, snorts when she laughs, _super cute_ —”

“Paninya. Paninya LeCoulte.” Al nods to himself, and she leans forward. “She’s doing physical therapy; otherwise I wouldn’t know her, except that May and I have anatomy class with her. I can get the dish on her if you give me a day or two. May at least could wheedle out a thing or two about ‘er.”

Ed tapes his physics books with quick, frenzied motions that successfully rip the page below. He throws the book across the room. “The _fucking_ ,” he starts, “piece of goddamn _shit_ of a book—”

“I’m gonna give her my phone number.” The door slams shut. Winry has vanished.

Al grins, prodding Ed in the stomach. “Looks like you’re out of luck, Brother.”

Ed huffs a strand of hair away from his face. “Yeah well. S’not my fault that she’s pretty much perfect. Who’s this Paninya girl, anyway?” His eyes narrow carefully. “Is _she_ pan?”

His younger brother groans. “You’re not named after your sexuality, Brother.”

“I know.” He leans back against the bed. The mattress creaks. “Damn, whoever this Paninya is, for _Win_ to be that obsessed over her, she’s gotta be like some sort of, I don’t know, literal goddess. Graceful and tall and elegant and beautiful and everything, and I bet you Winry’s going to get _all_ of that.”

 

“Fuck, I’m never gonna get _any_ of this.”

Dominique trashes the putrid remains of her coffee. “Are you incapable of following orders, or do you actively have a death wish? Start again.”

Paninya stalks off to the counter and rings up the next order. Espresso, with a shot of chocolate, because fuck logic, that’s why. She throws the cup onto the counter and returns to the register. Some blonde girl stands there with half a nervous grin on her face, the other half somewhere on the other side of the ocean. She cocks an eyebrow. “How can I _assist_ you?”

“I’m Winry,” says the blonde.

Paninya scribbles the name on the coffee cup. “And do you have, y’know, a coffee order to go along with that name of yours?”

“Surprise me.” Nervous grin? Nah. Predatory. Vicious. Girl could tear her throat out and spit it on the ground. Paninya smirks in response. “Give me your favourite.”

“You said surprise. Too late to change now, I reckon. Drink’s on me.” She returns with a concoction worthy of being used as a legal execution. The blonde regards it less like the venomous vial of distilled vipers it is and more like the  most exciting challenge in the world.

“I’m an engineering major,” she explains. “Name’s Winry, by the way, like I said. You can stop calling me the blonde.”

Paninya snorts. “How’d you know? Name’s Paninya.”

Winry sips the coffee. She drains the entire cup. “Could I have another one, Paninya?”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy. Sure.” She pulls another. By the time she returns Winry has already collected several bills settled crisp in her palm like fallen leaves. “I said it’s on the house.”

The engineering major shrugs. “I’d feel better if I paid. How much?”

“‘Bout two bucks fifty-seven. Dumb tax.”

“Mm.” She adds a nickel and two pennies before folding over the dollars and dropping them in Paninya’s outstretched hand. “Thanks! Next time I see ya, could you get me the same?”

The door tinkles. The next customers chisel Paninya’s smile away bit by bit; during the lull of the last few straggles, she begins to put away the money into the cash register. “Next time I see ‘er.” She coughs. “Uh-huh. As if that’s ever going to happen. Damn girl just wanted a free drink.”

Then she notices the scrap of white mixed amid the green. The needle in the haystack. No, the hay in the needlestack.

A phone number. A message: _call me. ;) -Winry_.

 

“How’s the _girlfriend_?” If his brother’s voice were any icier, hell would freeze over in an instant.

Al makes a noncommittal wavy motion of the hand. “She’s not.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Ed buries his face in his arms. “And Win hasn’t gotten herself a girlfriend, either.”

“Paninya’s an eff-buddy. Winry herself said.”

His brother stalks up to the counter and orders a pumpkin spice latte if only to appease his need to crush a styrofoam cup in his fist. “The term is _fuckbuddy_ , but you’re not allowed to say _fuck_. And I’m pretty sure that you _and_ her are in fucking cahoots.” His cheeks blaze. “Not that you two are fucking, no way, that’d be weird as all hell.”

The barista slaps down his order. “So. _You’re_ Ed.” He squints. Her nametag reads _Paninya_ and her fist reads _in his face_.

Al bursts out laughing. Out of nowhere an Asian girl in pink pops up like a jack in the box to snap a picture of Ed’s humiliation; he sits up, rubbing his jaw, while Paninya swings over the counter to press her shoe into a certain exquisitely painful location indeed. “This,” squeaks the girl excitedly, “is going on my tumblr.”

“It’ll get a thousand notes,” says Al.

“Ten thousand,” the girl agrees. “Could I get a pumpkin spice latte, please, Paninya?”

Paninya indicates Ed’s. “On the house. Hey, golden boy, better pony up some more cash before I tell Winry what you’ve been saying.”

“Don’t say _pony_ around him,” the girl butts in. “He’s still reeling from Professor Mustang’s class on physical chemistry.”

“Professor Mustang can shove his goddamn pyromania up his fucking ass for all I care.” He forks over a second round of cash. “And get a chai for Al, too. Um.” He mumbles something. The barista clambers back over the counter and stares. He tries again: “Nice to mee’cha.”

“You too. Future brother-in-really-in-law.” She grins. Ed visibly wilts.

The girl takes another round of pictures. “Ten notes already.”

Al swings his arm around her waist. “Should’ve added a photo of Xiao-Mei. Would’ve gotten up to five hundred at least.”

“Nah,” says the girl thoughtfully, “should’ve added a picture of these two cuties kissing. I’m pretty sure that that’d catapult me to something of about five thousand notes, maybe ten”

“What about us kissing?” They giggle. Their lips touch. Paninya gets them cups of coffee on the house and forces his brother to pay.

Said brother stares at Al. “Not a girlfriend, _eh_?”

The lovebirds exchange glances. “ _Wasn’t_ a girlfriend,” he corrects.

“Is now possibly one,” she adds. “Very possibly. But only if Xiao-Mei likes him. And only if he likes her.”

“I’ve met her. She likes me.”

Ed fumes. “Who the _goddamn fuck_ is Xiao-Mei?”

They laugh. The girl holds her stomach. “My panda.”

“She owns a panda,” Al confirms, “which isn’t a cat, but it’s close enough.”

She turns her nose up. “Close enough. You mean she’s a million bajillion times better. And cuter.”

Ed _stares_. “She owns a fucking panda?!”

The girl giggles. “No,” she says. “I haven’t got her a mate yet.”

 

But Winry has. Not gotten the panda a mate, of course, but herself. She and Paninya suddenly become a fixture. Everywhere. Winry and Paninya taking orders at Starbucks despite Winry’s lack of pay, Winry and Paninya drilling one another for their midterms and finals, Winry and Paninya going on double dates with May and Al, Winry and Paninya pulling pranks on Ed, Winry and Paninya training Den to sit and heel, Winry and Paninya finding home for Den’s puppies, Winry and Paninya getting her a raise at the Starbucks, Winry and Paninya laughing forever about the quaint manner in which they met, Winry and Paninya together, Winry and Paninya for a hundred years, Winry and Paninya forever and ever.

 

Winry sips the coffee. She drains the entire cup. “Could I have another one, Paninya?”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy. Sure.” She pulls another. By the time she returns Winry has refreshed her lipstick like her heart hovering over her mouth. “I said it’s on the house.”

The biomedical engineer shrugs. “I’d feel better if I paid. How much?”

“‘Bout two kisses and a shoulder massage. Dumb tax.”

“Mm.” Winry’s fingers dip into the spots just to the centre of her shoulder blades. Paninya can feel the thin band of metal on her ring finger. “Like this?”

“Oh God.” Paninya lowers her head. “Yes. Like this. Forever like this.”


End file.
